Martin Luther King Jr., here is your dream; his name is Barack Obama.
To the millions of slaves that were once owned in this country...here is your legacy: his name is Barack Obama.
To my great great grandfather, a member of the KKK: Start spinnin'!!!!
We win. In so many more ways than one...we win!!
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
The Double-Edged Sword
I have to admit that I was a little disappointed by the Vice-Presidential debate this week. I think it was a little over-hyped, for one thing. How many more red-neck homilies could Sarah Palin squeeze in? I was mostly disappointed by Joe Biden because he didn't do his job. Why didn't he do his job?
Well, the GOP base has brought up the issue of gender: Questions are being asked that would never be asked of a man; issues are being brought up that would never be brought up with a man; if Joe Biden goes into attack mode--which is primarily what the VP candidate does--he will be attacking Palin as a woman. Huh? You've got to be kidding me?
Here's the thing: Sarah Palin wants to paint herself as a feminist. Now, I don't have a problem with feminism in general, but there does seem to be a certain hypocrisy that goes along with it, just like every other POV platform that people may choose to stand on. (ie, hearing people say, "I'm a vegetarian because I think it's cruel to kill animals," while they're standing on their platform with nice leather Nikes wearing a leather belt to hold up their pants.) The feminist platform demands equal treatment, but they only want the good side of the equal treatment such as equal pay, equal position, equal opportunity, etc. When it comes to the bad side of equal treatment, they play the damsel in distress being attacked as a woman. Men attack. That's what they do. It's in their genetics. It's in that Y chromosome. They hunt, they attack, they kill. Whether they're doing it with their fists, weapons, or words, that's what men do. Offensively or defensively, that's what they do.
So, if Joe Biden had done his job as the VP candidate, if he had done his job the way that he would have done for any other male VP candidate, he would have been condemned immediately for attacking Sarah Palin, the woman. So, here's the "feminist" getting special treatment, not equal.
Now, we'll wander a little in this vein.......
Over the time of centuries, the role of man has changed. The role of woman has essentially stayed the same, but with a few added options. We no longer need them to hunt and kill for us; we can just go to the grocery store. We no longer need them to provide a home for us; we can just buy or rent one ourselves. We no longer need them to defend our honor or virtue; we take our honor and virtue into our own hands and those that have anything to say about it be damned. We continue to be the care-givers and nurturers, but are also providers, protectors, and defenders of the faith. Men get to pursue their more aggressive aspects in sports, weekend warrior play, sharpening their verbal skills into weapons of mass destruction. Hell, we barely need them to provide babies anymore! None of us stand on equal ground. To stand on equal ground we would be working together and we're still for the most part pushing against each other. We've forgotten to need each other.
That's not to say that there aren't pockets of equality, but I'm talking about an overall picture, a whole world view, if you will. There have been societies throughout the centuries, that have been able to achieve the kind of equality I speak of, but we have destroyed them (ie, the Algonquian Indian nations, the Celtic race). We live contradictory lives.
We're feminists, almost-feminists, strong independent females and yet our blood races and our hearts flutter while reading historical fiction novels over the hero that's always grimed with sweat, blood and dirt and waving a broadsword around. We swoon over these characters in the movies that take place 200 or more years ago. The best ones are the heroes that are grimed with sweat and blood, but come home from the battle and speak from the heart with the words of a poet. Sigh. We still want the bad boy. We're confused.
I've rambled far from the debate. I'm dissatisfied. An essential piece of the intricate puzzle that is our lives is missing. We all speak with forked tongues; our words say one things and our deeds do another. Hypocrisy rules. I wish we could just strip down to the basics, look at the common things that we all need, and work together to achieve those goals and leave all the other junk behind.
There are too many cooks in the kitchen.
So good luck deciphering where I'm going in this odd little ramble. I think I may have gone too long without letting some thoughts out of my head. The ragweed may have me slightly befuddled right now. This is, after all, the world according to a Gemini and we are by definition kind of all over the place:)
Well, the GOP base has brought up the issue of gender: Questions are being asked that would never be asked of a man; issues are being brought up that would never be brought up with a man; if Joe Biden goes into attack mode--which is primarily what the VP candidate does--he will be attacking Palin as a woman. Huh? You've got to be kidding me?
Here's the thing: Sarah Palin wants to paint herself as a feminist. Now, I don't have a problem with feminism in general, but there does seem to be a certain hypocrisy that goes along with it, just like every other POV platform that people may choose to stand on. (ie, hearing people say, "I'm a vegetarian because I think it's cruel to kill animals," while they're standing on their platform with nice leather Nikes wearing a leather belt to hold up their pants.) The feminist platform demands equal treatment, but they only want the good side of the equal treatment such as equal pay, equal position, equal opportunity, etc. When it comes to the bad side of equal treatment, they play the damsel in distress being attacked as a woman. Men attack. That's what they do. It's in their genetics. It's in that Y chromosome. They hunt, they attack, they kill. Whether they're doing it with their fists, weapons, or words, that's what men do. Offensively or defensively, that's what they do.
So, if Joe Biden had done his job as the VP candidate, if he had done his job the way that he would have done for any other male VP candidate, he would have been condemned immediately for attacking Sarah Palin, the woman. So, here's the "feminist" getting special treatment, not equal.
Now, we'll wander a little in this vein.......
Over the time of centuries, the role of man has changed. The role of woman has essentially stayed the same, but with a few added options. We no longer need them to hunt and kill for us; we can just go to the grocery store. We no longer need them to provide a home for us; we can just buy or rent one ourselves. We no longer need them to defend our honor or virtue; we take our honor and virtue into our own hands and those that have anything to say about it be damned. We continue to be the care-givers and nurturers, but are also providers, protectors, and defenders of the faith. Men get to pursue their more aggressive aspects in sports, weekend warrior play, sharpening their verbal skills into weapons of mass destruction. Hell, we barely need them to provide babies anymore! None of us stand on equal ground. To stand on equal ground we would be working together and we're still for the most part pushing against each other. We've forgotten to need each other.
That's not to say that there aren't pockets of equality, but I'm talking about an overall picture, a whole world view, if you will. There have been societies throughout the centuries, that have been able to achieve the kind of equality I speak of, but we have destroyed them (ie, the Algonquian Indian nations, the Celtic race). We live contradictory lives.
We're feminists, almost-feminists, strong independent females and yet our blood races and our hearts flutter while reading historical fiction novels over the hero that's always grimed with sweat, blood and dirt and waving a broadsword around. We swoon over these characters in the movies that take place 200 or more years ago. The best ones are the heroes that are grimed with sweat and blood, but come home from the battle and speak from the heart with the words of a poet. Sigh. We still want the bad boy. We're confused.
I've rambled far from the debate. I'm dissatisfied. An essential piece of the intricate puzzle that is our lives is missing. We all speak with forked tongues; our words say one things and our deeds do another. Hypocrisy rules. I wish we could just strip down to the basics, look at the common things that we all need, and work together to achieve those goals and leave all the other junk behind.
There are too many cooks in the kitchen.
So good luck deciphering where I'm going in this odd little ramble. I think I may have gone too long without letting some thoughts out of my head. The ragweed may have me slightly befuddled right now. This is, after all, the world according to a Gemini and we are by definition kind of all over the place:)
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Guy-friends
Okay...so I just finished watching When Harry Met Sally...
for the millionth time, and it got me thinking. Are they right? Can women and men never be friends?
Can you think of any men that you're just friends with? Or guys, girls that you're just friends with? Gay friends, for obvious reasons, don't count.
I had a lot of guy-friends in high school and college. I had more guy friends than girlfriends. I started thinking, "Did they all want to have sex with me?" Yes, I knew a few of them did want to have sex with me, and yes...I did have sex with one of them, but that involved a lot of Jamaican rum and we remained friends - for a while. That's a different story.
I don't have any guy-friends now. I have acquaintances, but not friends. Not a guy that I could call in the middle of the night if I needed a guy shoulder to cry on. So it made me start wondering: have I moved past the point where my age and attractiveness - or lack thereof - have made it not worth the time for a guy to bother being friends with me? Do men only want to be friends with someone they're ultimately attracted to? Or do they want to be friends with you, but are afraid to be friends because of the underlying "sex" thing?
So...do ya'll (we are in TX) have friends that are the opposite sex, that are not gay, that are just friends?
for the millionth time, and it got me thinking. Are they right? Can women and men never be friends?
Can you think of any men that you're just friends with? Or guys, girls that you're just friends with? Gay friends, for obvious reasons, don't count.
I had a lot of guy-friends in high school and college. I had more guy friends than girlfriends. I started thinking, "Did they all want to have sex with me?" Yes, I knew a few of them did want to have sex with me, and yes...I did have sex with one of them, but that involved a lot of Jamaican rum and we remained friends - for a while. That's a different story.
I don't have any guy-friends now. I have acquaintances, but not friends. Not a guy that I could call in the middle of the night if I needed a guy shoulder to cry on. So it made me start wondering: have I moved past the point where my age and attractiveness - or lack thereof - have made it not worth the time for a guy to bother being friends with me? Do men only want to be friends with someone they're ultimately attracted to? Or do they want to be friends with you, but are afraid to be friends because of the underlying "sex" thing?
So...do ya'll (we are in TX) have friends that are the opposite sex, that are not gay, that are just friends?
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
If it's any indication.......
Okay...I've kept my mouth shut long enough. I know it's taboo to start talking politics, but....
OMG!
So, McCain is supposed to be a "maverick". He supposedly does his own thing, not kowtowing to anyone. So his first "presidential" decision is in choosing his running mate. He wants Joe Lieberman. That's his choice. The right-wing GOP "handlers", however, said, "No...you can't have him. Take this woman instead." And what did he do?
He kowtowed!!!!!!!
These are the same "handlers" that have run the country for the past eight years. So, what do you think it would mean to elect John McCain?
Well, if his first "presidential" decision is at all any indication, I guess it would mean more of the same.
I don't know about you, but I agree with Barack Obama: Eight is enough!!!
OMG!
So, McCain is supposed to be a "maverick". He supposedly does his own thing, not kowtowing to anyone. So his first "presidential" decision is in choosing his running mate. He wants Joe Lieberman. That's his choice. The right-wing GOP "handlers", however, said, "No...you can't have him. Take this woman instead." And what did he do?
He kowtowed!!!!!!!
These are the same "handlers" that have run the country for the past eight years. So, what do you think it would mean to elect John McCain?
Well, if his first "presidential" decision is at all any indication, I guess it would mean more of the same.
I don't know about you, but I agree with Barack Obama: Eight is enough!!!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Tagged
So, Anne tagged me with some top ten list. I don't really understand how this whole "tag" thing works...I usually ignore them. When I was growing up, tag was a physical activity. But, in the interest of trying to keep up with society and technology, I'll give this one a whirl--I hope I can put the "tags" in.
1. List your top ten favorite films (in no particular order).
2. If you're tagged, you've got to post & tag 3-5 other people.
3. Give a tag back (some link love) to the one who tagged you in your post
4. Give a hat tip (HT) to Dan.
My favorite movies:
1) The Holiday (Dream vacation we'd all love to take--well, us single girls anyway)
2)Platoon (Gives me a better understanding of what my dad went through in 'Nam, since he doesn't talk about it much)
3) Lord of the Rings trilogy (Got 12 hours to spare?)
4) The Last of the Mohicans (Oh, to find a man that could love me that passionately--and what spectacular views!)
5) It's A Wonderful Life (A Christmas-time must! I absolutely adore Jimmy Stewart)
6) The Breakfast Club (Hey! I went to school with those people!)
7) Quills (You just have to see it)
8) The Usual Suspects (I love Gabriel Byrne, Kevin Spacey is awesome, and what an ending!)
9) Bull Durham (All hale the church of baseball!)
10) Dances With Wolves (What a beautiful story...until you get to the white people)
Honorable Mention: Dogma (Everything that turns me off of organized religion is brought up in this movie. Ben Affleck's diatribe in the parking garage is quite possibly the best monologue ever written!)
Tag! You're it: Alissa
Because I don't know what your favorite movies are
Leah Because we need to share more!
Jennifer Because you need some mindless task after three weeks in Europe!
Love, always, back to Anne
HT to Dan!! Who the hell is Dan? (I don't think this Dan is your husband, Alissa.)
Okay...next?
1. List your top ten favorite films (in no particular order).
2. If you're tagged, you've got to post & tag 3-5 other people.
3. Give a tag back (some link love) to the one who tagged you in your post
4. Give a hat tip (HT) to Dan.
My favorite movies:
1) The Holiday (Dream vacation we'd all love to take--well, us single girls anyway)
2)Platoon (Gives me a better understanding of what my dad went through in 'Nam, since he doesn't talk about it much)
3) Lord of the Rings trilogy (Got 12 hours to spare?)
4) The Last of the Mohicans (Oh, to find a man that could love me that passionately--and what spectacular views!)
5) It's A Wonderful Life (A Christmas-time must! I absolutely adore Jimmy Stewart)
6) The Breakfast Club (Hey! I went to school with those people!)
7) Quills (You just have to see it)
8) The Usual Suspects (I love Gabriel Byrne, Kevin Spacey is awesome, and what an ending!)
9) Bull Durham (All hale the church of baseball!)
10) Dances With Wolves (What a beautiful story...until you get to the white people)
Honorable Mention: Dogma (Everything that turns me off of organized religion is brought up in this movie. Ben Affleck's diatribe in the parking garage is quite possibly the best monologue ever written!)
Tag! You're it: Alissa
Because I don't know what your favorite movies are
Leah Because we need to share more!
Jennifer Because you need some mindless task after three weeks in Europe!
Love, always, back to Anne
HT to Dan!! Who the hell is Dan? (I don't think this Dan is your husband, Alissa.)
Okay...next?
Friday, May 30, 2008
It's Joey's Fault
Okay, so after reading Joey's glowing review of being fitted for a bra at Nordstrom's, I decided that I,too, must do this. Bras have not been feeling good lately...not that they ever really have. I felt that it would be a really nice thing to do for myself for my birthday. (I celebrate my birthday all week, since it usually occurs around a holiday weekend.) Today, I finally went to Nordstrom's. I try to avoid the mall as much as possible, but I had a free Aveda gift for my birthday to pick up anyway and I wanted to get my eyebrows threaded--more on that later.
But, I digress...we're talking about bras. Turns out, I've been wearing the right size bra all along. I've worn nothing but Victoria's Secret for at least 10 years. I've been very unsatisfied with their bras lately. I tried on several at Nordstrom's and fell in love with another brand. Talk about comfort! (Wacoal) Anyway, after picking out a few bras and matching panties (you have to have at least one matching panty for every bra--there are occasions where it matters!), I ended up spending over $350. I also ended up with a new Platinum Visa card. Definitely Joey's fault.
Off I went to Aveda to get my free gift. Picked up a couple of other things as well. Spent over $80. Yep...Joey's fault, because, like I said, I usually don't go to the mall at all.
I found the eyebrow threading place. I highly recommend this--Joey; then you can blame me for outrageous mall expenditures. She uses a device that's a combination string/rubber band. She just rolls it over your brow and pulls them out. It did occasionally feel like I was being thwacked by a rubber band on the brow, but I love the shape of my brows now. I never could pluck them this well and I hate what waxing does to my skin.
So, all told today, I did end up spending over $400. I feel so pretty though!
And it's all Joey's fault.
But, I digress...we're talking about bras. Turns out, I've been wearing the right size bra all along. I've worn nothing but Victoria's Secret for at least 10 years. I've been very unsatisfied with their bras lately. I tried on several at Nordstrom's and fell in love with another brand. Talk about comfort! (Wacoal) Anyway, after picking out a few bras and matching panties (you have to have at least one matching panty for every bra--there are occasions where it matters!), I ended up spending over $350. I also ended up with a new Platinum Visa card. Definitely Joey's fault.
Off I went to Aveda to get my free gift. Picked up a couple of other things as well. Spent over $80. Yep...Joey's fault, because, like I said, I usually don't go to the mall at all.
I found the eyebrow threading place. I highly recommend this--Joey; then you can blame me for outrageous mall expenditures. She uses a device that's a combination string/rubber band. She just rolls it over your brow and pulls them out. It did occasionally feel like I was being thwacked by a rubber band on the brow, but I love the shape of my brows now. I never could pluck them this well and I hate what waxing does to my skin.
So, all told today, I did end up spending over $400. I feel so pretty though!
And it's all Joey's fault.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Why We Hate Filthy Rich People
I usually ignore a lot of celebrity gossip, but something caught my eye today that just epitomizes the separation between those that have and those that have not:
It was a story about 2 celebrities, that--frankly--I've never heard of. Heidi Montag & Spencer Pratt. I have no idea who these people are, but it's quite obvious that they have too much money for their own good. It seems they had dinner somewhere with a bill that totaled $783. $720 of that bill was shots of tequila at $60/shot. SERIOUSLY???? Even the best tequila isn't worth $60/shot. I bet if you had set a half-way decent $10 shot of tequila in front of them, they wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.
Their tequila of choice was Patron. It didn't say what kind of Patron, but I know that you and I can go to Spec's and buy the most expensive bottle of Patron for $483--$460 if I pay with cash. That's a 50-shot bottle. $60 a pop and I've got $3000. Maybe I should be selling this stuff on my balcony. You and I can get a really good bottle of Patron for $60 at Spec's--the Anejo is really good.
But, I digress. Their--no doubt, harried--server at this restaurant, received a whopping tip of...sixteen dollars. Yes--$16.
Now, as a former waitress, I must shout out my outrage at this affront. Even the worst server gets 10% from me, because I know what they're working for and what they're going through to get that pittance of a salary. And believe me, one has to be really bad to just get 10% from me. $16 is 2% of that bill. The bartender typically gets 5% of the bar tab. The server wasn't even tipped 5%!
So, this is why we hate filthy rich people. It's not that we're jealous of their fortunes. I know that all that money can't buy all the happiness and love in the world, and that's what is really important in life. We hate them because of the absolute wastefulness. Really? Even if you had $60, would you spend it on a shot of tequila? $720 and they could have bought almost 2 bottles of the most expensive stuff. Or maybe they could have given it to any of 12 dozen charity organizations. Or maybe they could sponsor a child in a starving country. Maybe they could FEED HAITI. You know--that place where people are making cookies out of mud just to survive!
What pees me off most about these people, is they have absolutely no clue what the actual value of a dollar is. And we just keep giving them more.
It was a story about 2 celebrities, that--frankly--I've never heard of. Heidi Montag & Spencer Pratt. I have no idea who these people are, but it's quite obvious that they have too much money for their own good. It seems they had dinner somewhere with a bill that totaled $783. $720 of that bill was shots of tequila at $60/shot. SERIOUSLY???? Even the best tequila isn't worth $60/shot. I bet if you had set a half-way decent $10 shot of tequila in front of them, they wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.
Their tequila of choice was Patron. It didn't say what kind of Patron, but I know that you and I can go to Spec's and buy the most expensive bottle of Patron for $483--$460 if I pay with cash. That's a 50-shot bottle. $60 a pop and I've got $3000. Maybe I should be selling this stuff on my balcony. You and I can get a really good bottle of Patron for $60 at Spec's--the Anejo is really good.
But, I digress. Their--no doubt, harried--server at this restaurant, received a whopping tip of...sixteen dollars. Yes--$16.
Now, as a former waitress, I must shout out my outrage at this affront. Even the worst server gets 10% from me, because I know what they're working for and what they're going through to get that pittance of a salary. And believe me, one has to be really bad to just get 10% from me. $16 is 2% of that bill. The bartender typically gets 5% of the bar tab. The server wasn't even tipped 5%!
So, this is why we hate filthy rich people. It's not that we're jealous of their fortunes. I know that all that money can't buy all the happiness and love in the world, and that's what is really important in life. We hate them because of the absolute wastefulness. Really? Even if you had $60, would you spend it on a shot of tequila? $720 and they could have bought almost 2 bottles of the most expensive stuff. Or maybe they could have given it to any of 12 dozen charity organizations. Or maybe they could sponsor a child in a starving country. Maybe they could FEED HAITI. You know--that place where people are making cookies out of mud just to survive!
What pees me off most about these people, is they have absolutely no clue what the actual value of a dollar is. And we just keep giving them more.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
And A Good Time Was Had By All...
My daddy came to town last week. This is a big event, given that I have lived in Texas 19 years and he has been down all of 5 times!
He and my stepmother, Miriam, stayed at the Doubletree downtown. I know! How awful that I didn't let them stay here! Look, my dad is allergic to cats, so believe me, he was much better off. Plus, if he had stayed here, he wouldn't have been able to witness such spectacular storms! Nothing happened here in South Austin. The first night, he watched lightening hit the Capital (off their lightening rods). The second night, he couldn't see the Capital anymore, but he sure could see huge pieces of hail and every piece of downtown debris you can think of flying past his 10th story window. So nice for Austin to give him a show.
Wednesday night, we went to Ruth's Chris. OMG!!!!! Nobody is lying when they say it's the best steak you will ever eat in a restaurant. Talk about done to perfection! I like my steak medium-well, and it was that and it still melted in my mouth. Well worth the $$$$$$!
I also met a second cousin, who happens to live in town. His name is Jason. My dad and his mom were very close when they were younger; it was driving them crazy that their kids lived in the same city and didn't even know each other. He's about my age and works a lot in the local music business. Ironic, considering that I went to school for music business stuff. Anyway, we're acquainted now and we'll see where it goes from there.
Dad and I went to see the last Longhorn baseball game of the season together. My usual seat-mate had to go out of town for a wedding, so she gave me her ticket. We beat the Aggies handily! My dad can come to a game anytime! The Aggies have been playing much better than we have this season, but we still managed to sweep them. Aggies SUCK!!! (Except when they become Veterinarians). We had a good time at the game. It was fun going with him. He always took me to Cubs games. I bought him a Longhorn baseball hat, since I wouldn't let him wear his IU baseball hat to the game.
They had to leave early Saturday morning, but even though the visit was short it was well-spent. Hopefully, the next time they come down, I'll have a house with no carpet and they can stay with me. Me buying a house is something we've been talking about. They were going to help me buy property in Colorado, but now I think it would be more prudent to have them help me buy a house. It's time I became a grown up.
Maybe......
He and my stepmother, Miriam, stayed at the Doubletree downtown. I know! How awful that I didn't let them stay here! Look, my dad is allergic to cats, so believe me, he was much better off. Plus, if he had stayed here, he wouldn't have been able to witness such spectacular storms! Nothing happened here in South Austin. The first night, he watched lightening hit the Capital (off their lightening rods). The second night, he couldn't see the Capital anymore, but he sure could see huge pieces of hail and every piece of downtown debris you can think of flying past his 10th story window. So nice for Austin to give him a show.
Wednesday night, we went to Ruth's Chris. OMG!!!!! Nobody is lying when they say it's the best steak you will ever eat in a restaurant. Talk about done to perfection! I like my steak medium-well, and it was that and it still melted in my mouth. Well worth the $$$$$$!
I also met a second cousin, who happens to live in town. His name is Jason. My dad and his mom were very close when they were younger; it was driving them crazy that their kids lived in the same city and didn't even know each other. He's about my age and works a lot in the local music business. Ironic, considering that I went to school for music business stuff. Anyway, we're acquainted now and we'll see where it goes from there.
Dad and I went to see the last Longhorn baseball game of the season together. My usual seat-mate had to go out of town for a wedding, so she gave me her ticket. We beat the Aggies handily! My dad can come to a game anytime! The Aggies have been playing much better than we have this season, but we still managed to sweep them. Aggies SUCK!!! (Except when they become Veterinarians). We had a good time at the game. It was fun going with him. He always took me to Cubs games. I bought him a Longhorn baseball hat, since I wouldn't let him wear his IU baseball hat to the game.
They had to leave early Saturday morning, but even though the visit was short it was well-spent. Hopefully, the next time they come down, I'll have a house with no carpet and they can stay with me. Me buying a house is something we've been talking about. They were going to help me buy property in Colorado, but now I think it would be more prudent to have them help me buy a house. It's time I became a grown up.
Maybe......
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Welcome back to CIVILization
Well, I've been back for 5 days and I hate the fact that I was not snowed in.
Last night, one of my neighbors had someone pick her up at 11:00pm. He was such a gentleman...he laid on the horn in the parking lot for about 2 minutes, then stood up through the sunroof and spread his arms open wide and yelled, "HEYYY--YYYYYY!" Then, around 4am, she put the dog out on the balcony and it barked at the door for 20 minutes wanting back in. I can only imagine why the dog was put out on the balcony--the guy being such a winner and all. It's nice that my neighbors gave me a few nights to sleep. They're so considerate. I have a new one downstairs; so far so good there.
Work has been fun. A receptionist decided to call it quits while I was gone, so now we're down one. Now we get to start the interviewing, hiring, training process all over again. Oh joy!! I wish I could do my job from home.
This is where I want to be!
This is one of the areas that I'm looking to buy some land on. I've got a good lead that's in another area, but the trees there aren't like these. There are lots Aspens on the other lot; plus, it's 2.5 acres for just a little more than the price of 1.2 - 1.5 acres. Aspens are nice too, though.
God, grant me the luck to win the lottery.....
Thursday, April 10, 2008
The Road Less Plowed
I got to play in the snow today!
There wasn't much snow when I got here...a lot more bare ground than not. Yesterday, it snowed, but it didn't stick. Today, it hasn't gotten above 30-degrees, so it's sticking today. It's not like the snow I grew up with; it's dry. I laid down and made a snow angel and when I got back up, I was still dry. It's strange how it can be cold here, but it doesn't feel real cold. No one in Texas would ever believe it if they hadn't ever experienced it.
Mom and I went for a walk. We headed out toward the back of her property and hit the road that runs behind them. It was so beautiful. It's land untouched. It probably looks exactly like it did when the Indians lived here. The road is a dirt road and no one lives on that one, so it's not plowed. We walked quite a ways and the only sound I could hear was the wind, the trees swaying back and forth, and an occasional bird. So nice not to hear diesel engines, traffic, sirens, noisy neighbors and leaf blowers! There's also no one up here complaining or whining about anything. I swear, it's heaven!
Maybe, it won't stop snowing and I won't be able to leave on Saturday!
There wasn't much snow when I got here...a lot more bare ground than not. Yesterday, it snowed, but it didn't stick. Today, it hasn't gotten above 30-degrees, so it's sticking today. It's not like the snow I grew up with; it's dry. I laid down and made a snow angel and when I got back up, I was still dry. It's strange how it can be cold here, but it doesn't feel real cold. No one in Texas would ever believe it if they hadn't ever experienced it.
Mom and I went for a walk. We headed out toward the back of her property and hit the road that runs behind them. It was so beautiful. It's land untouched. It probably looks exactly like it did when the Indians lived here. The road is a dirt road and no one lives on that one, so it's not plowed. We walked quite a ways and the only sound I could hear was the wind, the trees swaying back and forth, and an occasional bird. So nice not to hear diesel engines, traffic, sirens, noisy neighbors and leaf blowers! There's also no one up here complaining or whining about anything. I swear, it's heaven!
Maybe, it won't stop snowing and I won't be able to leave on Saturday!
Saturday, April 5, 2008
The Trials of a Traveler
It's long, but entertaining.
It was the first day of my vacation. YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I couldn't wait to leave. Off to Colorado for one whole week. There was a threat of severe weather about the time I was supposed to fly off into the wild blue yonder, though. That had me just a teensy bit on edge.
Low and behold, the storms bypassed Austin and looked to be traveling North-East. Phew! I was up at 5:30AM getting ready, switching suitcases (very different packing when you have to pack winter clothes), and making sure I had everything in order. My plane was to leave at 10:20 and I would be in Colorado Springs at 1:15 (2:15 my time). Hooray!
I went through security with no problems. My plane was on time. They loaded us up and we pushed out to the tarmac. And we sat there. And sat there. Finally, the pilot came on and told us that Houston had put a stop on all arrivals due to a storm to the north of them. It looked like we would have to wait about 30 minutes. Crap! I only had an hour between flights. I pulled out the Continental magazine to look at the gate situation Houston International. Great!!! We were landing in the E terminal and to get to the B terminal for my next flight I was going to have to run through two terminals and catch a bus to get to the one I needed to be at. Meanwhile, the woman sitting next to me was furiously thumbing e-mails on her blackberry and she didn't have her key notes turned off so I have this incessant "beep-beep-beep" going on right next to me. I finally resigned myself to missing my flight. We finally took off, with Miss Blackberry still thumbing away when she was supposed to have it turned off, and we flew into very turbulent skies.
Upon landing, I got off the plane and noted that my connecting flight was delayed 30 minutes. That gave me less than 10 minutes to get there. I tried, but of course I didn't make it. So I stood in line at the Continental counter for 20 minutes, along with other people who were having travel troubles, and when I got to the counter discovered that they had already booked me on the next available flight that would be leaving in about 30 minutes. Cool! How nice of them. Meanwhile, a vicious front was descending upon Houston. My next flight was delayed by at least 40 minutes. It was a much smaller plane--one of the express jets--but they loaded us in as quickly as they could so they could take off before the front hit. We got in, pushed out to the tarmac...and sat there. And sat there. Pilot comes on, "We're number 32 in line to take off and it looks like it will be about a 45 minute wait". OY VEY!
45 minutes turned into another 45 minutes due to the tower having computer problems. I'm sitting all scrunched up in my seat listening to the people in front of me tell there life stories to each other. They were both in their 50s. He was a psychiatrist, grew up in Catholic schools, married three times--twice to the same woman--and had two grandkids that were a year or two older than his youngest son. She'd grown up in Catholic schools as well, married young, had two kids, three grandkids, got divorced, got involved with someone else, moved with him to Colorado Springs (she was originally from Mississippi), blah blah blah. When her boyfriend called her she had "When A Man Loves A Woman" as her ring tone. Mr Psychiatrist thought that was so sweet. They were getting antsy though. They wanted to start drinking wine. The flight attendant was having none of it, but Mr. Psychiatrist got up and somehow sweet talked her into it. So, they started drinking wine.
45 minutes turned into another 45, because the front changed the wind direction and we, as the pilot put it, had to take a tour of the airport and go over to the other side, because planes cannot take off with the wind. They have to take off into the wind. So we followed the trail of the 31 other planes in front of us to the other side of the airport so we could take off correctly. I had already been sitting on the plane for hours, and when we finally took off, I would have another 2 hours and 20 minutes in the air. My butt was having a hard time with that realization. My mother and her husband, on the other hand, had to keep finding things to do in Colorado Springs since they live 2 1/2 hours away from the airport and they had left the house at 8:30 to meet me. We were supposed to have lunch and margaritas at a Mexican restaurant. Well, they got theirs.
Meanwhile, Miss Southern-Belle and Mr. Psychiatrist have finished two small bottles of wine each and at one point, she just crawled right over him to go to the lavatory, jaunty breasts stuck right into his face. Uh-oh...I see what's happening here. She has a boyfriend and he's married, mind you. Yes...by the time the plane did take off, they were making out like teenagers at a drive-in. I had to bare witness to all this. Sloppy kisses, too. The kind you can hear. That's pretty sloppy when you can hear kisses over the sound of plane engines. It made me feel dirty. I just prayed that they wouldn't head off to the lavatory together. (They didn't) They had more wine, then graduated to SCREWdrivers.
We land!!!! After 7:00. I was supposed to be there at 1:15. After a few more kisses, Mr. Psychiatrist said, "Well, it was nice meeting you." Yeah...I bet! Her cell phone burst out into "When A Man Loves A Woman" right after he said that. She just giggled and said it was nice meeting him, too. They have plans to meet somewhere tonight at 6:00. I'll bet she's all a-twitter with lusty anticipation.
So, out of the plane and into a car I go...for another 2 1/2 hours. My butt was not happy at all. But, I'm here...and thankful I've never had to see a psychiatrist myself. Talk about problems.
It was the first day of my vacation. YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I couldn't wait to leave. Off to Colorado for one whole week. There was a threat of severe weather about the time I was supposed to fly off into the wild blue yonder, though. That had me just a teensy bit on edge.
Low and behold, the storms bypassed Austin and looked to be traveling North-East. Phew! I was up at 5:30AM getting ready, switching suitcases (very different packing when you have to pack winter clothes), and making sure I had everything in order. My plane was to leave at 10:20 and I would be in Colorado Springs at 1:15 (2:15 my time). Hooray!
I went through security with no problems. My plane was on time. They loaded us up and we pushed out to the tarmac. And we sat there. And sat there. Finally, the pilot came on and told us that Houston had put a stop on all arrivals due to a storm to the north of them. It looked like we would have to wait about 30 minutes. Crap! I only had an hour between flights. I pulled out the Continental magazine to look at the gate situation Houston International. Great!!! We were landing in the E terminal and to get to the B terminal for my next flight I was going to have to run through two terminals and catch a bus to get to the one I needed to be at. Meanwhile, the woman sitting next to me was furiously thumbing e-mails on her blackberry and she didn't have her key notes turned off so I have this incessant "beep-beep-beep" going on right next to me. I finally resigned myself to missing my flight. We finally took off, with Miss Blackberry still thumbing away when she was supposed to have it turned off, and we flew into very turbulent skies.
Upon landing, I got off the plane and noted that my connecting flight was delayed 30 minutes. That gave me less than 10 minutes to get there. I tried, but of course I didn't make it. So I stood in line at the Continental counter for 20 minutes, along with other people who were having travel troubles, and when I got to the counter discovered that they had already booked me on the next available flight that would be leaving in about 30 minutes. Cool! How nice of them. Meanwhile, a vicious front was descending upon Houston. My next flight was delayed by at least 40 minutes. It was a much smaller plane--one of the express jets--but they loaded us in as quickly as they could so they could take off before the front hit. We got in, pushed out to the tarmac...and sat there. And sat there. Pilot comes on, "We're number 32 in line to take off and it looks like it will be about a 45 minute wait". OY VEY!
45 minutes turned into another 45 minutes due to the tower having computer problems. I'm sitting all scrunched up in my seat listening to the people in front of me tell there life stories to each other. They were both in their 50s. He was a psychiatrist, grew up in Catholic schools, married three times--twice to the same woman--and had two grandkids that were a year or two older than his youngest son. She'd grown up in Catholic schools as well, married young, had two kids, three grandkids, got divorced, got involved with someone else, moved with him to Colorado Springs (she was originally from Mississippi), blah blah blah. When her boyfriend called her she had "When A Man Loves A Woman" as her ring tone. Mr Psychiatrist thought that was so sweet. They were getting antsy though. They wanted to start drinking wine. The flight attendant was having none of it, but Mr. Psychiatrist got up and somehow sweet talked her into it. So, they started drinking wine.
45 minutes turned into another 45, because the front changed the wind direction and we, as the pilot put it, had to take a tour of the airport and go over to the other side, because planes cannot take off with the wind. They have to take off into the wind. So we followed the trail of the 31 other planes in front of us to the other side of the airport so we could take off correctly. I had already been sitting on the plane for hours, and when we finally took off, I would have another 2 hours and 20 minutes in the air. My butt was having a hard time with that realization. My mother and her husband, on the other hand, had to keep finding things to do in Colorado Springs since they live 2 1/2 hours away from the airport and they had left the house at 8:30 to meet me. We were supposed to have lunch and margaritas at a Mexican restaurant. Well, they got theirs.
Meanwhile, Miss Southern-Belle and Mr. Psychiatrist have finished two small bottles of wine each and at one point, she just crawled right over him to go to the lavatory, jaunty breasts stuck right into his face. Uh-oh...I see what's happening here. She has a boyfriend and he's married, mind you. Yes...by the time the plane did take off, they were making out like teenagers at a drive-in. I had to bare witness to all this. Sloppy kisses, too. The kind you can hear. That's pretty sloppy when you can hear kisses over the sound of plane engines. It made me feel dirty. I just prayed that they wouldn't head off to the lavatory together. (They didn't) They had more wine, then graduated to SCREWdrivers.
We land!!!! After 7:00. I was supposed to be there at 1:15. After a few more kisses, Mr. Psychiatrist said, "Well, it was nice meeting you." Yeah...I bet! Her cell phone burst out into "When A Man Loves A Woman" right after he said that. She just giggled and said it was nice meeting him, too. They have plans to meet somewhere tonight at 6:00. I'll bet she's all a-twitter with lusty anticipation.
So, out of the plane and into a car I go...for another 2 1/2 hours. My butt was not happy at all. But, I'm here...and thankful I've never had to see a psychiatrist myself. Talk about problems.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
The American Legacy
Now that the campaigning has moved away from Texas and the next "big state to win" is on the East Coast, I feel left out of what's been going on. I get updates through e-mail, of course, and if I weren't so busy, I could go to all the websites myself and read everything that's going on every day. Who has time for that? I'm not one of those that can sit in front of my computer for hours every day; I have to work, I have to exercise, I have to do the shopping, I have to see that baseball game, I have to finish reading my book, writing my own, or just sit down with no electronics on and just breathe. So what I do see of the campaigning is what happens to be the most inflammatory thing of the moment on a news clip.
It seems some black preacher voiced his opinion on how white people and white politics has treated black people in general over the centuries that this country has been in existence. This preacher happens to be Barack Obama's preacher.
Some people are sitting around wondering what this guy could possibly be so angry about; some people thinks this guy, along with so many others, should just get over it and move on; some people are getting all red-faced and choking on their indignation while sputtering racial discrimination and how dare he say such horrible things about us!
Others, such as myself, wonder why people can't look back on American History and see that things sometimes were done wrong and why can't we just admit that? We joke about a president that can't admit that something he did may not have been the best way to do things, but try to glance over the mistakes that were made along the way by everyone. We make mistakes. That's what makes us human. Like Barack says in his speech, "We are the sum of all our parts".
Now, what gets me about black anger is that they were not the only ones that were treated unjustly during the span of American history. Native Americans could certainly argue that point. While we were building this country from one coast to the other, Chinese and Irish immigrants were treated horribly--we couldn't call them slaves, though, because they received what could loosely be termed as "wages". And the Irish were white! Somehow just being Irish made them sub-human. Poor people of all ethnicities were--and still are--viewed as the scum of the earth who dirty the landscape with their pallid existence. Throughout the history of the world, there have always been a people that thought they were better than others--how they always seem to be the ones in all the power positions is beyond me. Why do we get stuck in the same place century after century? You'd think we would have all learned something by now.
The sum of all my parts, looking back on my ancestry, goes something like this: English, Scottish, Irish, German, Prussian, Swiss, Native American, French, Spanish and Italian. I am descended from serfs and nobility, merchants and farmers, drunks and explorers, good and bad, beautiful and ugly. We're all made up of history. I look back proudly on the ancestors who crossed the ocean on a boat that got lost at sea and survived the starvation that took 2/3 of the passengers on that vessel. One of those even dared to get back on a boat to go back and get the woman who was to be his wife and her family to bring them over to the dream that was America. I have a many times great grandmother and grandfather that were tried and convicted at the Salem Witch Trials, but got out of it alive. Only about 150 years separates me from the grandfather whom, as a boy, rode the countryside with his uncles passing out vigilante justice to farmers that treated their own families and neighbors ill by being drunkards or gamblers; unfortunately, if there were no drunks or gamblers to teach a lesson to, they were known also to drag Catholics out of their homes in the middle of the night to pass the time. Not too long ago, I found out that my great-great grandfather was a Grand Wizard in the KKK. That really turned my stomach; how could I have descended from that? And isn't he spinning in his grave right now knowing his descendant is supporting a black candidate for President of the United States?
The thing is, we could all be--should be--the best part of our history. Accept what's been done, and do better.
It seems some black preacher voiced his opinion on how white people and white politics has treated black people in general over the centuries that this country has been in existence. This preacher happens to be Barack Obama's preacher.
Some people are sitting around wondering what this guy could possibly be so angry about; some people thinks this guy, along with so many others, should just get over it and move on; some people are getting all red-faced and choking on their indignation while sputtering racial discrimination and how dare he say such horrible things about us!
Others, such as myself, wonder why people can't look back on American History and see that things sometimes were done wrong and why can't we just admit that? We joke about a president that can't admit that something he did may not have been the best way to do things, but try to glance over the mistakes that were made along the way by everyone. We make mistakes. That's what makes us human. Like Barack says in his speech, "We are the sum of all our parts".
Now, what gets me about black anger is that they were not the only ones that were treated unjustly during the span of American history. Native Americans could certainly argue that point. While we were building this country from one coast to the other, Chinese and Irish immigrants were treated horribly--we couldn't call them slaves, though, because they received what could loosely be termed as "wages". And the Irish were white! Somehow just being Irish made them sub-human. Poor people of all ethnicities were--and still are--viewed as the scum of the earth who dirty the landscape with their pallid existence. Throughout the history of the world, there have always been a people that thought they were better than others--how they always seem to be the ones in all the power positions is beyond me. Why do we get stuck in the same place century after century? You'd think we would have all learned something by now.
The sum of all my parts, looking back on my ancestry, goes something like this: English, Scottish, Irish, German, Prussian, Swiss, Native American, French, Spanish and Italian. I am descended from serfs and nobility, merchants and farmers, drunks and explorers, good and bad, beautiful and ugly. We're all made up of history. I look back proudly on the ancestors who crossed the ocean on a boat that got lost at sea and survived the starvation that took 2/3 of the passengers on that vessel. One of those even dared to get back on a boat to go back and get the woman who was to be his wife and her family to bring them over to the dream that was America. I have a many times great grandmother and grandfather that were tried and convicted at the Salem Witch Trials, but got out of it alive. Only about 150 years separates me from the grandfather whom, as a boy, rode the countryside with his uncles passing out vigilante justice to farmers that treated their own families and neighbors ill by being drunkards or gamblers; unfortunately, if there were no drunks or gamblers to teach a lesson to, they were known also to drag Catholics out of their homes in the middle of the night to pass the time. Not too long ago, I found out that my great-great grandfather was a Grand Wizard in the KKK. That really turned my stomach; how could I have descended from that? And isn't he spinning in his grave right now knowing his descendant is supporting a black candidate for President of the United States?
The thing is, we could all be--should be--the best part of our history. Accept what's been done, and do better.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Exciting night in Texas
It's been an exciting night in Texas. For the first time in years--and certainly the first time since I've lived here--the primary voting actually matters! And I get to vote twice...legally! How great is that?
Of course, I voted early, but the caucus could only be done tonight. It's the first time that I've ever had to caucus. It's the first time a lot of people have had to caucus, apparently. There were more people at the caucuses than people expected. There was almost a fight at my polling place because people were "cutting" in line. These are adults we're talking about! I had to call my mom and tell her all about it, since she moved to Colorado and is missing out on it. She said that it was just like it was 1968 again. I wasn't around in 1968, but I can tell you, there is certainly more energy in this race than there has ever been in my lifetime.
It's so very cool to be making history. If you live in Texas and you didn't caucus tonight, you missed out. There might not be another opportunity like this for a while.
Only 320 more days for Bush to be in the White House!!!!! His days are numbered!!! I swear, if I die before he leaves office, I'm going to be very upset and will haunt him for the rest of his life!!!!!!!!!! http://backwardsbush.com/
Of course, I voted early, but the caucus could only be done tonight. It's the first time that I've ever had to caucus. It's the first time a lot of people have had to caucus, apparently. There were more people at the caucuses than people expected. There was almost a fight at my polling place because people were "cutting" in line. These are adults we're talking about! I had to call my mom and tell her all about it, since she moved to Colorado and is missing out on it. She said that it was just like it was 1968 again. I wasn't around in 1968, but I can tell you, there is certainly more energy in this race than there has ever been in my lifetime.
It's so very cool to be making history. If you live in Texas and you didn't caucus tonight, you missed out. There might not be another opportunity like this for a while.
Only 320 more days for Bush to be in the White House!!!!! His days are numbered!!! I swear, if I die before he leaves office, I'm going to be very upset and will haunt him for the rest of his life!!!!!!!!!! http://backwardsbush.com/
Sunday, February 10, 2008
New friends
Have you ever wondered if the friends that you have were supposed to be in your life for one reason or another and at a certain time? Really...think about it. Sometimes you can be in the same place for years and never meet, but then one day in a totally different place, you meet and become friends.
For instance--my friend and co-worker Stacy: we both went to the Art Institute of Dallas at the same time, different majors. We never met. Years later, dreams of photography and music production tossed aside, we meet while working at a veterinary hospital. My friend Cherri and I both lived in the Dallas area at the same time. Never met. Years later, we meet working at said vet hospital. Are there certain times that you're supposed to come into someone's life or they into yours? Years ago in Dallas, I could have met the man that I have recently been wildly in love with, but I met him here, years and two kids (for him) later and a relationship that he can't see himself getting out of because of those two kids (despite the fact that they've left each other twice, but gone back). Why didn't we meet in Dallas before his miserable relationship and two kids? Is it because I had to meet someone else first, lose him when he died, and go through that horrible grieving process. For what?
I've recently met someone that I did some pet-sitting for. In our preliminary meeting, she mentioned that her boyfriend had passed away not quite a year ago. I recognized the look in her eye and knew exactly where she was in that grieving process. Man, it sucks! I didn't say anything at the time. She went out of town and I checked in on her cats. I looked at all the pictures of "J" she has all over the place. He was incredibly similar to my Marshawn--tall, broad athletic chest, dark complexion and hair, and the same spirit shining from within. It made it seem like almost yesterday. She's a petite girl and I could see her big bed in her room and know how absolutely empty it feels right now and know that all those pillows that are on the bed do nothing to allay that feeling.
When she came back, I took her key back to her. Usually, if I'm not keeping the key for frequent jobs, I have people come and pick them up. I wanted to tell her, though, that if she ever wants to talk to someone that had been where she's at and understands where she's coming from, that she can give me a call; that I understand because I had been exactly where she is eleven years ago. Sure enough, the first question out of her mouth was, "Have you been able to love anyone else since then?" Hope springs eternal even in our darkest hour. I was able to tell her yes, and even though it seems it's not going to work out for me, I have the strength to go on and try again. We ended up talking for four hours. It won't be the last time either.
Ironically, her relationship with "J" started out much the same way that my relationship with "G" started.
So, the question is this: why do we have to go through such convoluted circles to meet each other at precise moments in our time? Are things pre-ordained, or is it all just chance? Do things always happen for a reason, or do they just happen? (I guess that would be "questions") Do you come into someone's life precisely when they need you to?
I'll let you ponder your deep thoughts now.
For instance--my friend and co-worker Stacy: we both went to the Art Institute of Dallas at the same time, different majors. We never met. Years later, dreams of photography and music production tossed aside, we meet while working at a veterinary hospital. My friend Cherri and I both lived in the Dallas area at the same time. Never met. Years later, we meet working at said vet hospital. Are there certain times that you're supposed to come into someone's life or they into yours? Years ago in Dallas, I could have met the man that I have recently been wildly in love with, but I met him here, years and two kids (for him) later and a relationship that he can't see himself getting out of because of those two kids (despite the fact that they've left each other twice, but gone back). Why didn't we meet in Dallas before his miserable relationship and two kids? Is it because I had to meet someone else first, lose him when he died, and go through that horrible grieving process. For what?
I've recently met someone that I did some pet-sitting for. In our preliminary meeting, she mentioned that her boyfriend had passed away not quite a year ago. I recognized the look in her eye and knew exactly where she was in that grieving process. Man, it sucks! I didn't say anything at the time. She went out of town and I checked in on her cats. I looked at all the pictures of "J" she has all over the place. He was incredibly similar to my Marshawn--tall, broad athletic chest, dark complexion and hair, and the same spirit shining from within. It made it seem like almost yesterday. She's a petite girl and I could see her big bed in her room and know how absolutely empty it feels right now and know that all those pillows that are on the bed do nothing to allay that feeling.
When she came back, I took her key back to her. Usually, if I'm not keeping the key for frequent jobs, I have people come and pick them up. I wanted to tell her, though, that if she ever wants to talk to someone that had been where she's at and understands where she's coming from, that she can give me a call; that I understand because I had been exactly where she is eleven years ago. Sure enough, the first question out of her mouth was, "Have you been able to love anyone else since then?" Hope springs eternal even in our darkest hour. I was able to tell her yes, and even though it seems it's not going to work out for me, I have the strength to go on and try again. We ended up talking for four hours. It won't be the last time either.
Ironically, her relationship with "J" started out much the same way that my relationship with "G" started.
So, the question is this: why do we have to go through such convoluted circles to meet each other at precise moments in our time? Are things pre-ordained, or is it all just chance? Do things always happen for a reason, or do they just happen? (I guess that would be "questions") Do you come into someone's life precisely when they need you to?
I'll let you ponder your deep thoughts now.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Patriots upset AGAIN!
YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I love it when the Patriots get upset in the Super Bowl! So goes their undefeated season. What a time to lose, huh Tom? Beaten by another Manning!!!! Can't imagine being their mom. 2 boys, 2 years in a row.
Too bad it was one of the most boring games in Super Bowl history until the end of the 4th quarter. The commercials weren't even that good this year; although, the baby buying stocks on the computer wasn't too bad.
I love it when the Patriots get upset in the Super Bowl! So goes their undefeated season. What a time to lose, huh Tom? Beaten by another Manning!!!! Can't imagine being their mom. 2 boys, 2 years in a row.
Too bad it was one of the most boring games in Super Bowl history until the end of the 4th quarter. The commercials weren't even that good this year; although, the baby buying stocks on the computer wasn't too bad.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Dieter's Dream
I have joined the ranks of January Dieting People. I am very diligently counting every calorie and trying not to go over my allotment for the day. I've added in some exercising, but I still haven't gotten up to every day. I am starting to ever so slowly lose weight. If I exercised more, I'm sure it would be more noticeable.
If I had any doubt that I was on a diet--IE convincing myself that I'm just eating healthier--the dream I had last night reminded me that I was in fact, for the first time in my life, on a DIET:
In my dream, a co-worker (who has joined my calorie-counting process) and I were roommates. Between our apartment and work, the ubiquitous "they" were building 20 different donut shops. Every donut store you can think of: Dunkin Donuts, Krispy Kreme, Shipley, Mom-and-Pop donut stores. Probably every donut shop I have ever seen in my life was lining the streets from our apartment to work.
The weird thing is that before I started my diet, I was not a huge donut eater. I could go to Exxon and look at the Krispy Kremes and pass them up easily. I think it's because someone brought donuts to work last week and I really wanted the donut with the red jelly oozing out of it.
When I was a kid, on Sundays, my dad would go to the corner store and buy Bear Claws and Cinnamon Twists and whole milk. Thanks, Dad.
If I had any doubt that I was on a diet--IE convincing myself that I'm just eating healthier--the dream I had last night reminded me that I was in fact, for the first time in my life, on a DIET:
In my dream, a co-worker (who has joined my calorie-counting process) and I were roommates. Between our apartment and work, the ubiquitous "they" were building 20 different donut shops. Every donut store you can think of: Dunkin Donuts, Krispy Kreme, Shipley, Mom-and-Pop donut stores. Probably every donut shop I have ever seen in my life was lining the streets from our apartment to work.
The weird thing is that before I started my diet, I was not a huge donut eater. I could go to Exxon and look at the Krispy Kremes and pass them up easily. I think it's because someone brought donuts to work last week and I really wanted the donut with the red jelly oozing out of it.
When I was a kid, on Sundays, my dad would go to the corner store and buy Bear Claws and Cinnamon Twists and whole milk. Thanks, Dad.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Traditions
Everyone has been talking about Christmas traditions--I feel a little lost. I don't have any anymore...except, maybe taking care of other people's pets on Christmas.
I'm a child of divorce. Not only that, I live at least 800 miles away from any family members. When I was a kid, though, I was always allowed to open one gift on Christmas Eve. That was great. We also had a little "candy count-down" that we hung next to the front door. There were 24 slots in it where a piece of candy went. Every night before I went to bed, I got to eat one, thus counting down the nights until Christmas Eve. Believe me--it was the only time of year I got candy anywhere near bedtime! Christmas was usually spent with my Dad's family after the divorce--Thanksgiving went to my Mom's. I don't know how it ended up that way, but these holidays just seemed to fit these families. Grandma Shaffer always made Ambrosia and Coconut Cake for Christmas dinner. Her Coconut Cake was to die for!!!!! Of course, it was not a recipe that she ever wrote down, even when I asked for it when I was 19 ("I don't know how I make it, I just do," she said). No one has been able to duplicate, although many in my family have tried. Sigh.....
Well, now, I do absolutely have to watch It's A Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve and A Christmas Story on Christmas day.
New Years Day is kind of my tradition now, I guess. I watch I-don't-know-how-many-hours of football, I make a pot of Black-Eyed Peas (Texas tradition), and I put Spare Ribs and Sauerkraut in the crock pot for later (German--and Irish, if you count the cabbage). The Sauerkraut has to go over mashed potatoes. It's a very bland-colored meal, but it's good!
My Black-Eyed peas were excellent this year! I put some kind of chili pepper in it; I don't know what kind because the grocery store doesn't really keep there pepper signs straight, but it looks like an anaheim. I threw in some onions, salt, pepper, thyme and a bay leaf, and cooked it in chicken broth slowly for about 6 hours. Add some corn bread and there's lunch!
Good thing I don't eat like that every day of the year!
OH...if someone could please tell me what the last comment on my previous post says, I'm curious to know.
I'm a child of divorce. Not only that, I live at least 800 miles away from any family members. When I was a kid, though, I was always allowed to open one gift on Christmas Eve. That was great. We also had a little "candy count-down" that we hung next to the front door. There were 24 slots in it where a piece of candy went. Every night before I went to bed, I got to eat one, thus counting down the nights until Christmas Eve. Believe me--it was the only time of year I got candy anywhere near bedtime! Christmas was usually spent with my Dad's family after the divorce--Thanksgiving went to my Mom's. I don't know how it ended up that way, but these holidays just seemed to fit these families. Grandma Shaffer always made Ambrosia and Coconut Cake for Christmas dinner. Her Coconut Cake was to die for!!!!! Of course, it was not a recipe that she ever wrote down, even when I asked for it when I was 19 ("I don't know how I make it, I just do," she said). No one has been able to duplicate, although many in my family have tried. Sigh.....
Well, now, I do absolutely have to watch It's A Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve and A Christmas Story on Christmas day.
New Years Day is kind of my tradition now, I guess. I watch I-don't-know-how-many-hours of football, I make a pot of Black-Eyed Peas (Texas tradition), and I put Spare Ribs and Sauerkraut in the crock pot for later (German--and Irish, if you count the cabbage). The Sauerkraut has to go over mashed potatoes. It's a very bland-colored meal, but it's good!
My Black-Eyed peas were excellent this year! I put some kind of chili pepper in it; I don't know what kind because the grocery store doesn't really keep there pepper signs straight, but it looks like an anaheim. I threw in some onions, salt, pepper, thyme and a bay leaf, and cooked it in chicken broth slowly for about 6 hours. Add some corn bread and there's lunch!
Good thing I don't eat like that every day of the year!
OH...if someone could please tell me what the last comment on my previous post says, I'm curious to know.
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